


Slenderverse One-Shots Collection

by 1NKP01S0N1NG



Category: Everyman HYBRID, MLAndersen0, Marble Hornets, Slender Man Mythos
Genre: Angst, Blood, Fluff, Gen, Humor, I Shouldn't Be Allowed To Write, Whump, a lot of these feature some really bad writing choices on my part, anyways sorry for my shitty writing, don't worry about the whump it pretty much only applies to habit, he deserves it, the little bitch, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:55:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26662552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1NKP01S0N1NG/pseuds/1NKP01S0N1NG
Summary: short little things that i write when i am blessed with inspiration. irregular updates. schedules are my enemy.
Relationships: HABIT & Original Female Character, HABIT & Patrick (MLAndersen0), HABIT & Stephanie (Everyman HYBRID), HABIT & Vinny (Everyman HYBRID), HABIT (Everyman HYBRID)/Reader, Michael Andersen/Reader, Patrick Andersen & Shaun Andersen
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	1. Jay Merrick (Angst)

Jay was not having a good day. Earlier, he'd tripped over his own feet, scraped his knees and been caught in the rain. Oh, and another thing to add to the ever-lengthening list of reasons he hated his life: a new video from (who else) totheark. He was fairly certain there'd be a normal message this time, as the absurd one he'd gotten a while back was the only one. The ones he'd translated since had all been fairly straightforward. 

He sneezed. He was still slightly damp as he sat at the small hotel desk, typing lines of binary into a translation software.

The weather outside was still awful, reflecting how Jay felt at the moment. He leaned back in his chair, suddenly not in the mood to see his newest lead. Was this really what his life had become? Just random, encoded messages from someone he didn't know, telling him where to go and what to do to accomplish a goal that became more and more hazy the further he moved forward? 

Jay felt sick. He just wanted to know what was _happening_. He wanted to know _why_. He wanted to know where his friends were. 

Were they friends? Jay had thought so. But the more he pushed on with his investigation, the more it seemed that Alex and Tim were alienating him. 

Should he give it up? Would that even help? What if he'd gotten himself in too deep? Even worse, what if he'd dragged his friends with him, tangling them up in a mess he'd created?

God... They must hate him. How could they not? When they finally managed to move on with their lives, he popped back up like a goddamn jack-in-the-box out to ruin the lives they'd just gotten back on track.

_What the fuck have I done?_


	2. Steph and HABIT (Whump)

She snapped. There was no other way to explain it. One second, the monster wearing her boyfriend's face was right in front of her, _taunting her_ , and the next second he was on the ground. Blood poured from his now broken nose as he cursed, struggling to sit up. He looked up at her, still grinning, blood staining his bared teeth red. "Fiesty. Evan always did like that," he laughed mockingly and her vision tunneled. 

Steph dropped to her knees hard, knocking the wind out of him as she straddled him. He snarled, trying to get out from underneath her, and she headbutted him, hard, in the face. His head smacked against the floor with a sickening _crack_. He groaned in pain. Steph gave a harsh bark of laughter, grabbing his shirt collar and punching him in the face again. 

HABIT growled at her, the blood flooding his mouth making it sound more like a gurgle. He ripped her hands from his shirt, and she twisted her arms out of his grasp. He continued to struggle, but Steph kept him firmly pinned as she raked her fingernails harshly down his arms and opening several long, deep gashes. 

Taking the opportunity presented to him, HABIT bit her hard on the shoulder, drawing blood. His teeth dug in, refusing to let go until she freed him. Steph had let out a cry of pain, before shifting her weight to dig her knee harshly into his stomach. Gasping for air, HABIT was forced to let her go, and she backhanded him across the face. 

HABIT started coughing, blood splattering across the both of them. Steph curled her lip in disgust and slapped him once more before getting to her feet and walking off, leaving HABIT on the floor to hack up more blood before struggling to sit up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to write about HABIT getting beat up okay
> 
> what can I say, i’m a simple person with simple pleasures 
> 
> (my kink is HABIT getting what he fucking deserves-)


	3. HABIT and OC (Humor)

K made her way into the kitchen, where Vinny already sat in one of the creaky wooden chairs clustered around the table. He was scrolling through something on his phone, not looking up until K noisily opened a drawer and began rooting around. 

"What are you looking for?" Vinny asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mm, nothing..." K trailed off and continued searching through the drawer, before pulling out a large butcher's knife and studying it for a minute. Vinny looked a little worried. Muttering to herself, K shoved the knife back into the drawer and continued her search. 

Vinny went back to his phone, looking up every now and then to shoot K wary glances. 

"Aha." K had found one of their larger steak knives, and was inspecting it carefully. Nodding to herself, she slammed the drawer shut and left the room. Vinny debated whether or not to follow her for a second, before deciding that whatever it was probably involved her irritating HABIT and wouldn't be worth risking his life for. He sighed. 

K found HABIT in the basement, messing with that purple grabby hand of his. He had looked up when he heard her on the stairs, noting the sharp knife she was carrying. 

"What's with the knife, weirdo?" He asked, setting down one of the pieces of purple plastic he was fiddling with. 

"Target practice," she replied vaguely, turning to face one of the dartboards that hung on the basement walls. HABIT shrugged. 

"Right, well, don't stab yourself in the foot by accident, 'cause I ain't helpin' ya back up the stairs." K hummed in agreement, and HABIT went back to 'modifying' his plastic grabby hand. Not a second later, K's knife whizzed past his head, sticking itself into the wall behind him. His head snapped up and he glared at her. 

"You want to fuckin' die?" He snarled. K brushed past him as she went to go yank the knife from the wall.

"Sorry, I was aiming for the target, but you're just so hard to miss," she said offhandedly, before turning back to the dartboard and pulling her arm back.

 _THWACK_.

Bulls' eye.

"You think you're real fuckin' funny, don't ya?" HABIT sneered. K turned her head to face him, pulling the knife from the dartboard and pocketing it. 

"Well, you know, I've always wanted to be a stand-up comedian," she informed him seriously. He snorted. 

"Yeah, and you'd do a shitty job of it. Now fuck off before that knife ends up in your arm." K made a vaguely committal noise and started back up the basement stairs. HABIT rolled his eyes, pushing back in his chair and standing up to go pet Isabelle, who sat on the couch on the other side of the basement. 

HABIT took exactly one step before tripping and falling on his face. He pushed himself up onto his forearms, cursing as he looked back to see what he'd tripped over and seeing his shoelaces tied together. He growled.

"GET YOUR ASS BACK DOWN HERE, YOU LITTLE SHIT! I'M GOING TO RIP YOUR FINGERNAILS OFF ONE BY ONE AND MAKE YOU _EAT THEM_!"

He heard faint laughter from Vinny as K yelled back down to him, "Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. Maybe next time."

HABIT ground his teeth together in frustration. "THERE HAD _BETTER_ NOT BE A 'NEXT TIME', YOU FUCKER!" The only response was more laughter from Vinny. 

HABIT nearly ripped his hair out. _Fuck, I need a fucking vacation..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is funny.


	4. Patrick and Shaun (Angst)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When inspiration hits, it hits hard. I wrote this in about ten minutes. Hope you enjoy!

"I know you don't care about Michael, Shaun, but I do. And I need him in one piece. I need him fighting." On the surface, Patrick looks calm, unruffled. In reality, though, he's about to lose it. 

Patrick wants to reach out and choke Shaun for all the trouble he's causing. All Patrick needs is Shaun to trust his brother, to help him. How hard can that _possibly_ be? But no, Shaun won't do it. He just keeps running. And now he's finally come home, he pulls something like _this_?

"Putting Michael - putting _us_ back in that place won't solve anything, Shaun. It'll make things worse, you know it will. How could you even _consider_ doing something like this?" Patrick shakes his head, pacing back and forth across the tiled kitchen floor. Shaun watches him from his seat at the table with no small amount of wariness, but doesn't try to say anything - not yet. 

Patrick can feel his blood pressure rising as he turns to Shaun. "I mean, hell, were you not fucking _listening_ to what we told you, what it was _like_ in that _fucking place?"_ He slams his palms down on the table and glares at Shaun. "Make as many goddamn excuses as you like, but we all know who put him there the first time around."

Shaun stands up. "You know, you're only proving my point with all of this. Michael, Patrick, whatever you want to call yourself - you're a danger to yourself and everyone around you. I wasn't kidding when I said you were a virus, all you _do_ is spread this crazy shit!" His voice rises as he continues. 

"You spread it to me, you could've spread it to Eric, you might be spreading it to every single one of those goddamn subscribers of yours - you're a danger to them too, don't you forget that, they're convinced the garbage you're spouting is real." He turns to leave the kitchen, but pauses. 

"How many fucking people are you gonna drag into this? Are you not going to be satisfied until you can point to that - that _thing_ and everyone on this motherfucking _planet_ tells you _they can see it, too_? Where does this _end_ , Michael?"

Patrick opens his mouth to reply, but Shaun has already left. He growls, turning to drive a clenched fist into the wall. Sloppy in his anger, he does more damage to his hand than the wall. 

He ignores his bleeding knuckles as he sinks into the chair Shaun had vacated and puts his head in his hands. Patrick feels Michael hesitantly creeping forward a bit, and sighs. 

_I'm sorry, Michael,_ Patrick thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'll be trying to update more frequently from now on.


	5. HABIT and Vinny (Humor)

"Hey, HABIT, I-" Vinny stopped in Evan's doorway as he got a good look at what HABIT was wearing. He opened his mouth again to say something, then closed it as he apparently thought better of it. HABIT snickered.

"Isn't this great? Man, did I have to do some digging to find this baby, but I like it." HABIT did a slow twirl for Vinny, showing off the absolutely eye-wateringly bright Hawaiian shirt he'd put on over Evan's Death Proof t-shirt. Vinny just shook his head, sighing. 

"You look... completely and totally ridiculous." HABIT smirked, cupping a hand behind his ear.

"Sorry, what was that? You want a makeover too? I think our boy Evan has some more Hawaiian shirts, I can get one for you..." Vinny shifted nervously. 

"That's, uh, that's alright... I'm fine with what I'm wearing." HABIT pouted. 

"Aw, but I think you'd look so great in _red_." He practically growled the last word, making the other man jump. Vinny glanced quickly at the gleaming machete that lay on Evan's unmade bed.

"Uh, I think I'm good, thanks!" Vinny backed away so fast that he bumped into the hallway wall before turning and rushing down the stairs. HABIT cackled at Vinny's panic before turning to admire himself in Evan's mirror.

He really did like the shirt. Maybe he'd wear it more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where did HABIT find all those Hawaiian shirts anyways? Were they Evan's? We demand answers.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this short little thing, I had fun writing it.


	6. Jay Merrick (Angst)

_His surroundings are dim and blurry, his hand shakes as he points the flashlight at the figure in front of him. They seem vaguely familiar, for some reason, but he can't see their face._

_He can, however, see the gun they're pointing at him. He's holding a camera, pointing it at the person as terror rushes through him. He hears himself pleading with them as he desperately tries to get his legs to move._

_He shouts their name, but everything's fuzzy and he can't hear what he's saying anymore. Taking a step back, a tear races down his cheek. He notes, detached, that he's crying from fear._

_Everything gets louder, staticky, and then all of a sudden he's on the ground and his ears are ringing. He registers the sharp pain in his side, considers how strange it is to feel himself bleeding out._

_He thinks he hears someone yelling his name, but everything's going dark now._

_Dimly, he wonders why they sound so afraid._

Jay jerks awake, his heart racing. Sweat drips from his brow, his face stained with tears. He must've had a nightmare. Sighing, he scrubs the tears from his face with his sleeve and checks his phone. It's nine thirty in the morning.

He curses, stumbling out of bed before rushing to pull on a clean t-shirt and some jeans. He promised to be at Rosswood Park by ten, to help with Alex's film. 

Jay decides, after thirty seconds of deliberation, that a protein bar will be fine for breakfast if he eats in the car. His hat and keys are grabbed on the way out the door.

He pulls into the parking lot about a minute late. Alex is already there, along with Sarah and Brian. 

When Alex approaches to help unload the camera equipment from the car, Jay ignores the little shiver of dread that snakes down his spine and curls in his stomach.


	7. Patrick and HABIT (Whump)

Patrick had just about had it with HABIT’s bullshit.

The little _prick_ kept popping up whenever and wherever possible, seemingly intent on seeing just how far he could push Patrick before he snapped.

Now, Patrick thought of himself as a fairly patient person. He could suck it up and deal when he had to.

But with every interaction the two had, the more Patrick wanted to just haul off and slug the demon in his stupid, smug face. 

“Hey, Pat!”

 _Great_ , Patrick thought, grimacing. _Speak of the devil, and he shall appear._

HABIT was on top of the kitchen counter, where he had apparently materialized. Grinning at Patrick, he proceeded to stretch like a very large cat and knock a glass onto the floor, which promptly shattered. 

Patrick dragged a hand over his face, sighing.

“Oops,” HABIT said, not looking the least bit sorry. Patrick was positively _itching_ to smack that dumb look off his face. Instead, he took a deep breath and put on a very fake-looking smile. 

“Hello, HABIT. Can I ask what you’re doing here?” _And why you can’t go bother literally anyone else?_

HABIT hopped down from the counter, plopping himself into a kitchen chair and beckoning for Patrick to do the same. 

Patrick didn’t move from his place leaning against the countertop. He made a ‘get on with it’ face at the entity, who shrugged. 

“Fine, whatever, be that way.” HABIT leaned forward in the chair, balancing it on two of its wooden legs. 

“So. How are ya?” Patrick didn’t answer. HABIT smirked. “Aw. Still mad about that meat shield of yours?”

“He was Michael’s _brother_ , HABIT, and I needed him-” He cut Patrick off with a snort. 

“No, ya didn’t. Jeez. What the fuck’s wrong with ya, gettin’ soft? So I killed one a’ your meat shields. Get a new one. Anyways-” HABIT grinned. “He was one of the most fun I’ve had in a while. Kept insisting on answers, so of course I gave him some- all lies, of course.” 

Patrick could feel his eye twitching. HABIT chuckled. 

“It was beautiful. Whole time I was having my fun, ya know who he was cursing out? Wanna know what name he was screaming as he died?”

Nearly shaking in anger, Patrick wasn’t sure he could hold himself back from beating the shit out of HABIT if the demon said another word about Shaun. 

“Well... it wasn’t ‘Patrick’.” HABIT’s smile grew wider. “Man. Hell of a performance I put on - ya should’ve seen it. ‘You were right, Shaun. Patrick never existed. You know who did this to you, Shaun? That’s right - your own brother, Michael.’ He ate it right up.”

 _Crack_. 

The next thing Patrick knew, HABIT was groaning in pain on the floor with his nose gushing blood. It looked broken. Patick’s fist throbbed from the force of the punch. 

HABIT made to push himself up into a sitting position, but Patrick kicked him hard in the chest. The demon fell back with an ‘oof’. 

Patrick grabbed HABIT by the neck, dragging him roughly to his feet, before slamming him against the wall and squeezing the hand around HABIT’s neck as hard as he could. Bloody satisfaction filled him as he watched HABIT’s face slowly turn blue, trying to draw in a breath. 

HABIT struggled in Patrick’s grip, managing to get a good kick to his stomach. Patrick dropped HABIT on the floor and doubled over slightly, coughing a couple of times as HABIT tried to regain his breath. 

Snarling, Patrick grabbed the entity and flipped him onto his stomach, straddling his back to keep him from getting up. He yanked one of HABIT’s arms back, twisting it at an odd angle until he heard a _pop_. HABIT grunted in pain as Patrick pulled roughly at the now-dislocated arm. 

Patrick stood up, watching HABIT roll over onto his back and shakily try to stand up. He promptly introduced his shoe to HABIT’s face before grabbing him once again, dragging him to the front door and tossing the bloodied demon into the snow. An unspoken ‘and don’t fucking come back’ hang in the air as Patrick slammed the door shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is some of my best work yet. Originally posted on my Tumblr.


	8. Michael X Reader (Fluff)

You chuckled at the video you were watching with Michael on your phone, and he smiled at your amusement. You and Michael lay on the living room couch, surfing YouTube for entertainment. You were tucked under his arm, his chin resting on top of your head. 

Pausing the video, you placed your phone on the coffee table and wound your arms around Michael tightly. He responded by kissing the top of your head lightly, smiling into your hair. 

“Mm… love you, sweetheart,” you hummed happily. 

“Love you too…” Michael trailed off for a second before placing another kiss in your hair. “This is nice, huh? We should do this more often,” he mused, and you smiled. 

The two of you sat like that for a while, enjoying each other’s warmth. Listening to a bird chirping outside, you sighed contentedly before twisting in your spot to look up at Michael. 

“Everything’s gonna be okay, alright? I’ll be here with you however long you need me.” 

“…and if that’s forever?”

You kissed his cheek softly. “I think spending forever with you sounds pretty good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually one of the first works I posted on my Tumblr. Hope you liked it!


	9. HABIT x Reader (Angst, Slight Whump)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's really more than slight whump but shhh it's fine

“Alright, bunny, you almost ready? I’ve got the camera and the gun. Do you have the- _HGLEK-”_ HABIT’s sentence ended with a gurgle as you twisted the God-Killer knife that you had just plunged into his back. You pulled it out, watching dispassionately as he dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

HABIT stared up at you incredulously. “What-” He coughed, blood spattering the wood floor. Chuckling, you crouched down in front of him to be at eye level. 

“Aw, what’s wrong? Never been stabbed in the back before?” You shook your head in mock disappointment. “You know, HABIT, I was wondering how long I could keep this up. Wondered if having to play _house_ with you was going to be _worth_ killing you.” 

HABIT snarled weakly, still coughing up small amounts of blood. You could see the shock and betrayal in his eyes, plain as day. _God, what an idiot. A couple “I love you”’s and he just eats it right up._

You stood back up. “You know, Jeff and Vinny and Evan, them and everyone else- they were my _friends_.” Gritting your teeth, you continued. “And _you_ are just the monster that hurt them. As if I ever would’ve loved you! _Loved_ you - after all you did!” 

He whimpered when you kicked him in the stomach, making you laugh harshly. 

“God, you’re pathetic, aren’t you?” You ran a bloody hand through your hair. “Man, this couldn’t be more perfect, huh? You torture and murder my friends, and now I get to be the one to kill you. Even better, you let me in with open arms.”

Smiling mockingly at him, you asked, “So. How does it feel to be on the recieving end for once? To feel the pain you inflict on others?” 

You can see the light beginning to fade from HABIT’s eyes, still staring at you with that stricken expression. His coughs are starting to slow now. 

Grabbing him by the hair, you place your mouth next to his ear and whisper, “You may be a wolf, HABIT, but I’m no _bunny_. I’m a fucking _hunter_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm just dumping stuff from my tumblr don't mind me


End file.
